


when you are the one (the one who lies close to me)

by seventhstar



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Zexal
Genre: Alien Biology, Gemsex, M/M, PWP, ryoga's endless well of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-12 07:51:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3349412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seventhstar/pseuds/seventhstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>ryoga is an alien sometimes. yuuma doesn’t really mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	when you are the one (the one who lies close to me)

Ryoga is an alien sometimes.

+++++

When their pendants resonated, Yuuma saw things.

It was all at once, five hundred years compressed into a few minutes, and so Yuuma doesn’t remember it all. What he recalls are the feelings, the depth of Nasch’s despair, the intensity with which he’d loved his kingdom and Merag and Durbe, the strength of his loyalty.

A little girl dead in his arms, wilted flowers in her hair. A pegasus with broken wings. The ocean darker and deeper than Yuuma had ever seen it.

He knows that the pendant is important to Shark — a piece of heart, a little bit of his soul — and so he doesn’t ask Shark about what he was shown. It feels like an intrusion, reminding him his whole life was shoved into Yuuma’s brain.

But Yuuma tries, all the same — to show Shark beautiful things, happy people, the sea at peace — to drive out bad memories and replace them with good.

+++++

He doesn’t usually wear the pendant.

Ryoga keeps it with him, in his bag or shoved into a pocket, carefully wrapped in velvet. Not because he’s worried about it breaking, but because the gem is sensitive and he’s scared of it being accidentally touched.

With Yuuma he has to be the most careful. Yuuma relaxes him.

And Yuuma is handsome, and he makes Ryoga’s blood warm. The gem opens instinctively, Nasch’s soul longing for Yuuma’s soul the way Ryoga’s body longs for Yuuma’s hands. It’s a desire that only makes sense to a Barian. It’s a desire that Ryoga is ashamed to have.

Yuuma asks him about the pendant once, tentatively. Ryoga brushed him off; he tries to avoid showing Yuuma his faceless, stone hard self. It must be hard enough to love him as a human. And being with Yuuma is like winning the lottery; there’s no way Ryoga can be that lucky twice.

So he doesn’t ask Yuuma to love Nasch, too.

+++++

Yuuma knows he’s lying about it.

He knows because once Shark was wearing it and they were making out on the couch at Shark’s place while Rio was out and it got stuck between them, pressed hard into Yuuma’s skin. Shark nearly fell off the couch and turned bright red and couldn’t look Yuuma in the eye while he slipped it off. It was glowing.

He knows because when it touched he felt such intense pleasure, such intense presence, Shark’s thoughts all jumbled together in his head, and he knows Shark felt it because when he touched they were almost one, and when Shark took it off Yuuma almost asked him to leave it on.

But he didn’t. Shark looked so uncomfortable; he couldn’t.

He remembers, though. He thinks about it. He wonders why Shark denies himself things. Doesn’t he know, that if he would just ask, Yuuma would give them to him?

+++++

He gets stuck in Barian form one afternoon.

He’s not even sure how he does it; he goes to sleep at night and when he wakes up in the morning he’s Barianphosed. And he can’t change back.

He can’t go outside, and he keeps breaking things and denting the walls and just generally being a useless, destructive piece of shit. Rio isn’t home. He can’t trust himself to cook or clean or card organize or even use the stupid remote, so he just sits there in his living room, all the blinds closed, feeling ugly and monstrous in his own body.

Nasch has found he transforms as a defensive mechanism when it happens out of his control. And transforming in his sleep in frightening. And being frightened makes it impossible to revert.

Being in Barian form is usually comforting. But not today.

So of course Yuuma comes over unannounced while he is wallowing.

Nasch tries not to touch him, but Yuuma just gives him a stern look before flopping into his lap and nuzzling him until he gives in and cuddles Yuuma back.

“How come you’re a Barian?”

“Who knows,” Nasch says. He’s acutely aware of the fact that Yuuma’s flesh is fragile compared to his own. And Yuuma’s shoulder brushes against his central gem, warm, transmitting Yuuma’s total comfort with Nasch’s body.

“Your hands are bigger.” Yuuma strokes the back of his hand with interest, then up his wrist and over the forearm gem. He follows the line of the facet with a fingertip.

That feels nice, Nasch thinks. Yuuma is admiring him.

Yuuma’s hand drifts up, over his shoulder, along his neck, up the ridge in the center of Nasch’s face where his mouth would be. Nasch is more self-conscious about his face than anything else; it is so obviously wrong, without a nose or a mouth. It’s hard to read for humans. It makes him look like a monster.

When Yuuma puts both hands on his shoulders, Nasch sees clearly what he is thinking, and so he receives the idea of the kiss an instant before Yuuma’s mouth presses lightly against his face, against hard skin, and he feels Yuuma’s tongue against the center ridge.

It’s wet, and Nasch’s skin is less sensitive than human skin, but he can feel Yuuma’s pleasure in the act and it becomes his own.

He drops his hands; he doesn’t dare touch Yuuma, for fear he’ll hold on too tight in his excitement.

Yuuma makes a little noise of disappointment, but he continue to kiss him, and he keeps his palms pressed over the gems on Nasch’s shoulders and something about the texture of Nasch’s face appeals to Yuuma because Nasch can feel little sparks coming into him, flaring up inside him.

“Hold me,” Yuuma begs.

“I—”

“Shark.” Yuuma bites his lip. “Please.”

The naked want on Yuuma’s face is thrilling, and Nasch feels bold, suddenly, and he puts his hands on Yuuma’s back, pulling him close, and Yuuma gets up on his knees, astride Nasch’s lap, and sucks furiously at Nasch’s shoulder.

Nasch’s head drops back against the wall — he’s panting — he is as aware of Yuuma’s body as he is of his own, Yuuma’s hands scrabbling at his other shoulder and chest, both of them wracked with pleasure. Yuuma’s back is tight under his hands, muscles drawn with exertion, his heart pounding against him.

He’s giving off a faint pink glow now.

He hooks his fingers into Yuuma’s waistband and tugs. It is massively unfair, he thinks, that no matter how much he works out his ass will never look as good as Yuuma’s does. He digs his fingers in, and Yuuma groans gratifyingly against his shoulder.

“Oh,” Yuuma says, breathlessly, and he licks Nasch’s shoulder again and —

The floor is cold. He’s rolled off the futon. Ryoga lies there, panting and deeply ashamed and uncomfortably hard, and tries not to think about Yuuma, who is asleep next to him.

“Shark?”

Awake next to him. Ryoga sucks in a deep breath and hopes his voice will sound steady. “Sorry.”

“Did you have a nightmare?”

“Just a weird dream,” he lies. Yuuma reaches out and touches his arm in an attempt at comfort. Ryoga wants to pull him over and kiss him, but he doesn’t dare.

+++++

In the orange light of the setting sun, Shark looks unbearably sad.

They don’t have any plans for the night. Yuuma is just here because he can be, really, because being with Shark makes him happy. He watches the shadows grow longer as the sun sets and Shark’s face darkens.

“What are you thinking?” he asks.

Shark shrugs. “Nothing.”

“You look sad.” Yuuma wants to reach for him. Lay all your sadness on me, he thinks. Smile.

“I’m fine.” Shark doesn’t turn away from the window. “What do you wanna do?”

“We could…you know.” Yuuma slides up behind Shark, lays his hands on his chest in the center where the gem would be.

Shark shudders.

“You want me to…” he gestures in the empty air, something that must indicate ‘transform’.

Yuuma mumbles his assent.

“Why would you want to?” He must know how that sounds to Yuuma, because he corrects himself hurriedly. “I mean, I don’t — there’s not much I can do for you in that form.”

Yuuma wonders why Shark won’t just say ‘Barian’. The word doesn’t offend him. He presses the flat of his hand against Shark’s chest, and sighs, snuggling into him.

“I like the way you look,” Yuuma says. “And I want you to — I mean, if it feels good for you —“ He hesitates — when is the right time to say it? — and then whispers, “I love you a lot, you know.”

“…you’re not scared?”

“Never,” Yuuma promises.

The body in Yuuma’s arms shifts, hardening, pale flesh turning purple, the facets of a jewel growing underneath Yuuma’s eager fingers.

Shark makes a soft sound of pleasure when Yuuma’s palm lies flat over his center gem.

“I know,” Shark admits, and it’s the same as if he’d said ‘I love you’ back. Shark is slow to say those words, but that’s alright, Yuuma thinks. They have other ways of talking.

Yuuma traces the sharp edges with his fingertips, the pink light warm against his skin, and he drags Shark into their bedroom, shoves him down onto the nest of blankets on the floor, puts his mouth on Shark’s chest, over his soul, and undoes him; and Shark is too incoherent to speak, let alone reciprocate, but Yuuma doesn’t care. Just to have Shark is enough.

Afterward, they lie on the floor without turning on the lights. Shark buries his face in Yuuma’s shoulder and falls asleep there.

When Yuuma shifts and he rolls over, he sees that Shark is smiling.

“Sweet dreams,” Yuuma murmurs, and he curls in close, closes his eyes.


End file.
